


The Cedar Forest

by paperballoon



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Post-Canon, Romance, Storytelling, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 20:01:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14722686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperballoon/pseuds/paperballoon
Summary: The fic where Inaho is the one to capture and imprison Slaine for life. But as the years go by and he gets to know Slaine, and sees how life in prison has weakened Slaine to a state of malnourishment and mental illness, he starts to question his own logic and judgement. Until Slaine, one day, makes the most unusual request; he wants to listen to a story he claims Inaho knows as good as he knows life, a story about a king and a wild creature who became a person under the care of a goddess, a story about sacrifice, war, death and love.Soon, the boundaries of myth and reality start to merge…and Inaho finds himself questioning his own life, his choices, and most importantly, the punishment he chose for his greatest enemy, Slaine Troyard.





	The Cedar Forest

**Author's Note:**

> This is yet another self-indulgent experiment with my writing, so this fic might seem confusing at some points. As always, English is not my mother tongue, so apologies for all the mistakes here. 
> 
> Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, mature content.
> 
> Also, a small spoiler: Slaine is the one to fall in love first, here. Or perhaps, the one to realize it first ;)

“Tell me a story, Kaizuka Inaho. That’s all I need. A story.”

“A story?”

“There is a story. A story I want to hear. And then perhaps I’ll eat.”

“What will you gain from this? It is foolish, if you believe that blackmail will—“

“ _Tell me a story_ ” Slaine snarls, eyes narrowing into slits, “or I’ll never put an edible thing in my mouth again.”

_Is he toying with me?_ Inaho carefully observes the protruding bones, and sharp angles of Slaine’s face, the slender fingers that barely have the strength to move the chess pieces between them into a more advanced position.

Inaho swallows in discomfort. His heart feels crushed. Slaine’s request seems impossible. “There was once…”

“There was once a king.” Slaine states. His eyes seem to soften…the bright colors do not longer reflect that much pain and misery.

“There was once a king.” Inaho blindly repeats. “The king lived…in a palace.”

“The king lived in a palace made of sand and dust. The king lived in a palace made of gold, at the mouth of the world’s longest river.” Slaine talks, voice hoarse and fragile from days of not properly talking. “The king…”

#

_The King had unimaginable riches and limitless access to knowledge and wisdom. He was revered by his people, because he had saved two entire kingdoms from the fury of an abominable Monster, a creature he now held captured in his castle’s darkest dungeon. Despite earning glory and treasures and the love of countless people, the King chose to isolate himself within his palace, in order to ensure the Monster in his dungeons will never see the light of day again; in order to ensure the Monster will stay imprisoned and chained until the day it lets out its final breath._

_As he was walking one day through his gardens, the King noticed that something was amiss among the flowers…_

#

It’s the most Slaine has spoken since he started throwing up the food that started being forced into his stomach, two months ago. A deep, very well hidden part of Inaho is mad with elation at being able to converse with Slaine Troyard again like this. Ten years have passed since the end of the Second Interplanetary War. During those ten years, Inaho missed visiting Slaine on three occasions; one, to attend his sister’s marriage; two, to attend Asseylum’s marriage; and three, to attend the official banquet for the birth of the Vers Empire’s first heir, Asseylum and Klancain’s son— _and Cruhteo’s grandchild,_ Slaine bitterly added, when Inaho announced the news to him.

“What happened in the garden?” Inaho asks, dizzy from relief that Slaine wants to talk to him again.

Slaine lowers his head. The long, golden strands of his hair fall over his large eyes, obscuring his expression. Slaine refused, the last time Inaho offered to cut his hair—that was over two months ago, before Slaine’s health started deteriorating.

“The king saw a creature in his gardens.”

“Slaine Troyard, what is the purpose of this…foolishness.”

“Foolishness? Oh, Orange.” Just for a moment, Slaine seems immeasurably sad, but the tightening of his mouth vanishes in an instant, and he says, “How little knowledge of the world do you actually possess...”

“I can assure you that I have mastered the quantum qualities of Aldnoah and analyzed its wavelengths, so that Kataphracts with three abilities combined can now be constructed.”

“…And all of this in order to feed me.”

Inaho stills, hand hovering over his white queen. “You weren’t supposed to have obtained information on that.”

“Creating weapons of mass destruction for my sake…” A sigh. “The UFE will work you to death.”

“I offered my cooperation…as an exchange. Despite your war schemes, you do not deserve to be mistreated. How did you—”

“I overheard some of the new guards talking about it. Apparently, they weren’t briefed much about the security protocol. Now, be silent about it. You don’t want some _harmless_ people losing their jobs now, do you?”

“What did the king see in his garden?”

Slaine’s arctic eyes show a glint of surprise. “A creature.”, he answers, his gaze expectant and calm, unlike the furious, raging animal he used to be during the first five years of his imprisonment.

“What kind of creature?”

“You are the one who’s supposed to tell me, Orange.”

“How could I? You are the one narrating the story.”

“Oh, come on, Orange. I’ll give you a hint: the creature has eyes, for example. Surely, you have something to say about the creature’s eyes?”

Inaho’s nonexistent imagination is overloaded with the memories and emotions of staring into a pair of bright green eyes over a chessboard, expressing endless suffering.

“Its eyes are green.” Inaho blurts out, and Slaine is silent.

“…Green?”

“Or blue. Like shallow ocean waters.” Inaho says, and remembers Tanegashima and all that occurred there. The sound of Slaine’s aircraft crashing into the ocean. Slaine’s last, desperate shout.

For the longest, most uncomfortable moment in his life, Inaho cannot look away from Slaine’s eyes. Slaine almost laughed once during the past ten years. At that moment, Slaine’s eyes shimmered with emotion.

The sight made Inaho’s throat close up.

He was subjected to a new kind of agony, watching Slaine almost laugh while not daring to participate in it.

Because Kaizuka Inaho cannot laugh; he doesn’t know how.

“Its eyes were the color of shallow ocean waters.” Slaine repeats, and Inaho snaps out of his trance. “Good. Surely, you could share some information with me about the creature’s appearance…?”

_He seems to be thoroughly enjoying this,_ Inaho thinks, with a hint of fondness in his chest. He opens his mouth, only to say, “I…” And then he closes it, clueless about anything concerning the story.

“The creature could have hair, for example. You could tell me something about its _hair_.” Slaine almost purrs, and the sound sends shivers down Inaho’s spine. He has never seen Slaine so eager to talk to him, during all those years, during all those days Inaho kept stubbornly visiting him.

“From a practical point of view, the king should compare the creature’s characteristics with things familiar to his environment—since the king is confined within his palace, for reasons I personally find illogical. However, it is your story, so assuming the king has lakes in his gardens, the creature’s eyes should resemble lakes…Or oceans. Water.” Inaho’s mouth has gone dry. He knows he is nervous; he cannot understand why. Slaine is listening to him, almost…fascinated.

It makes Inaho’s heart thud, once. Instead of opening his eye wider and clutching at his tie, in order to calm his unsettled heart, Inaho says, gazing at the unused chessboard between them in contemplation, “The creature’s hair should resemble a notion or object the king finds familiar.” Inaho raises his gaze, and it’s the moment the long, pale threads of Slaine’s hair catch the sunlight, and Slaine seems…

_Radiant._

“Gold.” Inaho whispers, and Slaine’s mouth visibly tightens.

#

_The king saw the creature for the first time in his gardens, lying amid the amaryllis flowers the king’s sister had requested to be bought from the northern territories. The creature was wrapped in a piece of linen, whiter than the falling snow in the northern lands, brighter than the sun in the endless skies. The creature’s hair had the color of the most precious gold…the king stood mesmerized, watching. One hand was resting indolently on the creature’s strong thigh, the other was touching the flowers, and it’s blue-green eyes were shimmering with wonder, like the clearest, most beautiful lakes within the Palace Garden._

#

A guard comes inside the room, and Inaho is very reluctant to go, but he knows he must keep to the protocol, since that is the only thing in his life that seems logical now: waking up, eating, visiting Slaine, talking to him, then going home, sleeping, and repeating the same procedure again and again in the next days, months, years.

Before he stands up, he whispers, “What happens next?”

“Next time, you will know.” Slaine whispers back, and under the orange light of the setting sun, he seems vulnerable and glorious at the same time.

#

_The King, for all his kindness and patience, was haughty. Overconfident in his abilities, and miserable each time he tried to understand others. To solve a problem meant his logic was intact; to converse with people was a difficult task, because people are more complex that the movement of the stars and the calculations for the proper amount of food needed to last through the winters of perpetual frost…_

_The sight of the Creature lying among the white flowers robbed the King off his breath, and much time flowed until the King could speak._

_“Who are you?” asked the King, and the Creature’s eyes widened in surprise. “Who are you, and what are you doing in my gardens?”_

_The Creature stood up, gathering the white sheet more firmly around it’s pale, strong body. The Creature’s body was littered with scars; they were spread all over his chest and back. “I am here because you invited me.”_

_“I invited you?”_

_“You did. You saved me from certain death.” the Creature said and smiled, sadly. “But you never promised me freedom, or happiness. So I came here to ask you, King. What purpose does it serve, saving someone and condemning him to a life full of misery and suffering?”_

#

“I don’t understand.” Inaho says, the chessboard forgotten on the table between them. He has returned to Slaine, and despite spending hours trying to understand the purpose of the story, he still has not managed it. “Why can’t the king remember? It makes no sense.”

Inaho’s sleep was restless and frantic. He woke up to the sound of the ocean waves relentlessly hitting the shore near the small house he lives alone, the tropic storm raging endlessly outside. As he tried to go back to sleep, Slaine Troyard’s profound blue-green eyes were haunting his thoughts to sleeplessness.

“The king has not realized it, yet.” Slaine says, and he lifts his head in an almost regal way, a remnant from his bygone days as a Count. The line of his mouth seems wistful. It’s almost a smile. “That the creature is weak…that the creature is lonely. There are many things a king never realizes…until it’s irreparably late.”

_Asseylum? No, Klancain. Or perhaps Saazbaum? Who is the ‘King’? What game are you playing at, Slaine?_

“What happens next, Slaine Troyard?”

#

_The King decides to fulfill his promise. He takes the Creature into his palace made of dust and sand. He walks with the Creature among crimson corridors, and the busy, majestic roads of his city. He explains how humans live; he shows the Creature the Palace’s Garden, and the lakes there, and the endless river flowing within the dessert of eternal summers._

_He shows the Creature the way the water shimmers with the light of the myriad stars above, and the meteorites that cross the dark skies in all the glory of their descend._

_The King gives the Creature nourishment; sweet, ripe berries and salted, savory meat; golden, hot liquids made of colorful fruit that quench both of their thirst; red, cool liquids made of grapes that make both of them lightheaded with the happiness of being together._

_Months pass. One day, the King takes the Creature quietly by the hand as they stroll through the blooming gardens, because the Creature is upset—because the Creature wakes up every night, destroyed by horrid dreams. Yet the King is very gentle; patient as if he holds the answers to all of life’s questions…_

#

Slaine’s voice breaks when he narrates the part about the king holding the creature’s hand, as if the simple act of talking pains him tremendously.

Inaho’s pulse rises with worry. “Troyard?”

“It’s nothing.” Slaine whispers hoarsely, hands coming to cover his face. “I’m so tired.”

“What can I do?”

“Nothing. There is nothing you can do, anymore.” Slaine’s skin is ashen, pulled tight across the angles of his face. He swallows bitterly, then says, “I do not know how to make it clearer to you.”

“What exactly, Troyard? Stop speaking in riddles.”

Slaine’s breathing is labored, he is forcing the words out if his mouth. “The monster the king defeated…it’s the same creature he has come to…” Slaine swallows, then speaks very softly, “…care for.”

“…I do not understand.”

Slaine’s fist bangs on the table with such force, it makes the chess pieces rattle. “Your arrogance, Kaizuka! Your _arrogance_ is what keeps me silent!!” Slaine bares his teeth in pain. “Always believing you are right. Always believing that saving me means imprisoning me, when you should have _killed_ me. You should have killed me ages ago, Kaizuka Inaho, on that godforsaken beach, on that cursed night, _where you pointed a gun at me_ ” Slaine roars, _“right after saving my pathetic life!!!_ ”

“Slaine—“

_“Get out of my sight!!!”_

Slaine is blind with rage, throwing chess pieces on the floor, black and white glass shattering everywhere.

It takes Inaho and four guards to restrain Slaine.

After that, Slaine needs a week in order to recuperate and gain the scarce, precious energy he lost during those few manic seconds.

#

“Talk to me about the king.” Inaho whispers in the prison’s infirmary, touching Slaine’s limp hand, warm from his sleep, for almost a whole minute. They are alone. “Tell me more about him, Slaine Troyard.”

Slaine stays silent. Slaine is fast asleep.

#

Slaine is still resting in the infirmary the day Inaho visits Asseylum and the council responsible for Troyard, on Vers.

Both UFE and Vers officers have gathered there in order to decide Slaine Troyard’s fate; a few years ago, confidential yet obscure data on Slaine’s whereabouts and fake death was leaked to the public. Since then, both the UFE and Vers have increased their attempts at persuading Inaho to stop visiting Slaine, because most of the officers wanted Slaine Troyard’s life to be terminated as soon as possible. Inaho managed to buy more time by signing an agreement; he is studying Aldnoah and using his results in order to construct weapons and Kataphrakts, which are distributed equally to Vers and Earth, a bizarre way to ensure that peace is sustained.

(Inaho did not have much choice back then—Inaho and Asseylum were the only members of the council that voted against the termination of Troyard’s life. Slaine was one vote away from facing certain death. Inaho still remembers the day he announced the results of the voting to Slaine; Slaine let out a strange sound at this, then did not speak to Inaho for the rest of Inaho’s visit.)

#

“Inaho-san…”

Asseylum seems not as carefree and cheerful as the last time Inaho saw her, many months ago. She is dressed in her usual white dress, her golden ring shining brightly on her finger. Motherhood apparently did not change her schedule much; Asseylum keeps visiting Earth often, observing Earth’s nature with her husband, during long days full of leisure. As far as Inaho has understood, Klancain insisted his son spend more time with the caretaker that was assigned to him from birth, than in his mother’s arms. That way, Asseylum has more time to invest on birdwatching and visiting the Earth’s beaches and major cities, cities famous for offering many opportunities of sightseeing. Asseylum has invited Inaho thirty-seven times to join them, yet Inaho has always refused. (Somehow, during the years, visiting Slaine has become more important to him than seeing Asseylum’s constant smile.)

The long-hour journey from Earth to Vers has tired Inaho considerably—his remaining eye is throbbing with pain—so he tries to come up with an excuse to delay the inescapable question of when he can join Asseylum and her husband for dinner. Yet Asseylum surprises him by linking her elbow with his own, and saying, “Inaho-san, please follow me. I need to discuss something very important with you.”

#

They are alone, in Asseylum’s bedchamber.

Inaho has difficulty understanding the words Asseylum just spoke out. “Terminating Slaine Troyard’s life?”

“Yes.” Asseylum’s voice barely trembles. “I’ve made up my mind, Inaho-san. My husband made me realize the truth; the longer Slaine stays alive, the more chances there are…that the carefully built peace we have struggled so much for will collapse…bringing a destructive war between our nations again—“

_Those arguments are completely illogical. As was the declaration of Slaine’s death, ten years ago._ “I strongly object to this.”

Asseylum’s eyes sadden. “The council has already voted, Inaho-san. The result will be the same, regardless of your decision—“

Years of patience keep Inaho’s voice unchanged. “Years ago, you asked of me to save him. To save Slaine Troyard from the chains of misery. What happened to that request?”

Asseylum averts her eyes in shame, and at that moment, Inaho realizes exactly what just happened to him, in the most dishonorable, cowardly ways; checkmate.

“I’m very sorry, Inaho-san. I have thought about this for a very long time. Klancain made me realize that Slaine…S-Slaine Troyard cannot be saved, not anymore. If he could, his character would have shown improvement while confined in prison, during all those years that have gone by. Instead, Slaine tried to harm you once again last week…”

“He threw the chess pieces on the floor and broke them. This wasn’t an attack. It was an act of frustration.” _Against me…_

#

No matter how hard Inaho tries, he cannot change Asseylum’s opinion. They proceed to talk about other subjects, such as the Vers economy.

Inaho cannot sit still.  

He needs to ensure that Slaine is safe.

He did not expect Slaine’s impending death sentence to have that effect on him.

He is restless.

The moment Inaho announces his intention to leave, Asseylum momentarily closes her eyes, lacing her fingers and resting them near her midsection. “I know you are a kind and just person, always approving of rightness and fidelity, yet…will I be too selfish to ask you, Inaho-san…” She is whispering now, “If only for t-tonight…?”

Inaho blinks, not understanding.

Asseylum takes one step towards him, placing her palm on his cheek, and Inaho recoils as if burned.

“Inaho-san?” She instantly withdraws, her eyes wide and surprised, glistening with the beginning of tears.

“No.” Inaho says, alarmed. Disgusted. He cannot recognize the emotion. He is lost. ~~~~

Asseylum lets out a small, hurt sound. “I apologize, Inaho-san, I didn’t realize you did not—!”

Inaho says something useless. “You should inform your husband on the decision of the council, Asseylum.”

Asseylum blinks, but before her open mouth lets out another sound, Inaho escapes from the bedchamber, his mind full with thoughts of Slaine, lying hurt and alone in the prison’s infirmary.

#

When Inaho returns thirteen hours later to the prison, Slaine is awake. Slaine blinks when he sees Inaho. He sits up on the infirmary bed, and says, his voice very soft and tired, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t.” Inaho’s fingers curl on his knees. “I…I should have done more for you, Slaine Troyard.”

Slaine blinks again, facing away from Inaho. “I am eating again now, you know.” Slaine says. “So—So don’t you worry about me, Orange.” His hands are shaking, crumbling up the thin, cheap sheets. Inaho knows; Slaine is blinking away tears.

_Why…? Perhaps he’s tired. Perhaps I should try to steer his thoughts into another direction. Saying that…_

Slaine sighs when Inaho asks, “What happens next, Slaine Troyard?”

“Sit down.” Slaine whispers, looking away. There are purple circles under his green eyes. “Just sit down and be silent.”

#

_The Monster the King defeated was a pitiful creature. Wild and untamed, he was abandoned by birth and raised by animals, spending most of his life in loneliness, until the Goddess took pity on him and showed him the way humans live. She showed him compassion._ _The Monster learned love and took a human form for the first time in his life. But the encounter with humans came with consequences; the humans, believing that he was different, ceaselessly tortured and abused him. Being a human brought feelings; he needed to_ _protect the woman that gave him hope. Protecting the Goddess, the Monster lost his fragile humanity and completely destroyed everything the King loved._

#

“Monster. Creature. I don’t understand.” Inaho says, now sitting on Slaine’s white linen sheets, near Slaine’s warm, thin body. “Are you feeling better?”

“They are one and the same, Inaho…ah, you’ll see.” Slaine mutters, his features set into a mesmerizing calmness. “And why are you saying that? Ten years I have spent inside this place, and it sometimes seems to me you are the only person left in this world that has never abandoned me.”

“They want to end your life.” Inaho says, because it’s unbearable.

Slaine is silent for many painful heartbeats. “Will you let them?”

#

_The King and the Monster fought for many years_.

#

“No.” Inaho says. “I won’t.”

#

_Neither was happy when the war ended._

_Neither was happy when the King forced the Monster into his prison, announcing to the whole world that the monstrosity that was once the cause of all their problems was now dead, silenced, forever forgotten._

#

“What will you do?” Slaine’s eyes are large and hesitant.

Inaho doesn’t know how to answer that. And then he feels warmth, and looks down at his own hand, resting palm down on Slaine’s bed. Slaine has curled his elegant fingers around Inaho’s wrist. The grip is more of a reassurance than a threat.

“Listen to me.” Slaine says, and there is a slight desperation hidden in his voice.

#

_The Monster suffered every day, being in that prison. It was abused, and hurt, and threatened by the humans, every single day. Until the day the Monster turned into a Creature. Defeated and forced to a life of imprisonment and solitude, he underwent a silent, painful transformation. Until one day, he opened his eyelids in response to a calm voice calling to him from afar, taking in the sight of the expanses of land and sky and the towering city in the distance._

_The prison around him did no longer exist._

_Still lacking the spirit of a human, the Creature’s happiness came from being free in the wild, neither perfect nor flawed, lost in his own, far-away world. He would still stop to gaze at the city occasionally, longingly, hearing the voice that was neither his father's nor the Goddess’ calling to him from beyond the wilds._

_That endless longing, that bottomless need to be understood, to be a human and perhaps be loved for the first time in his life, won over. The Creature did his first hesitant steps towards the city, and hid inside the King’s gardens._

#

“And what happened next?” Inaho asks, when Slaine is ready to fall asleep again on the cold infirmary bed. Their hands are still connected.

“…The creature understood that the king was kind, and patient, and capable of…of....”

Slaine’s cheeks are red.

“Slaine?”

A sigh. “N-never mind.”

#

_The Creature understood that the King was kind, and patient, and capable of unconditional, selfless love._

_Filled with the love needed to fulfill his life, Slaine Saazbaum Troyard spoke Kaizuka Inaho’s name for the first time and the world became something extremely simple in that instant._

#

“What did you just say?” The last few words were spoken so quietly under Slaine’s breath, Inaho only managed to understand both of their names. The rest was lost to him.

Slaine only says, “Come again…Come again to me tomorrow, Kaizuka Inaho.”

#

The next day, Inaho returns. Most of the chess pieces lie forgotten between them on the table. Slaine’s fingers are fiddling absentmindedly with his black king as he speaks, his elbow resting on his knee.

Slaine looks very tired.

#

_Understanding that the King’s arrogance stemmed from his solitude, the Creature sought to get closer to him. He constantly reprimanded the King, but did not state the real reason behind his behavior, to avoid hurting his own pride._

_The King, his fame widespread and figure resplendent in his cobalt, wealthy clothes, attracted the sexual attention of the Goddess, who approached the King and offered to become his lover. This union was deeply desired by everyone, except the lonely figure living hidden within the King’s sand palace._

#

“Slaine Troyard…” Inaho says, because he cannot understand. He has to go home and finish his plans on how to stop the official procedures that have started. Their purpose; terminating Slaine Troyard’s life. Inaho cannot allow this.

“Patience.” Slaine whispers, defeat in his eyes.

#

_Since the Creature rampaged once across the Earth and was hated immensely by the people there, it also angered the gods. The Goddess, once having given a human form to the Monster, had now forgotten all about it. She did not oppose the decision of the other gods; they decided to eradicate the Creature from the face of the Earth._

_They decided to send a bull to kill it—_

#

“Troyard.” Inaho says, a slight warning. He is very, very confused.

Slaine stops talking. His eyes are empty. “The Bull of Heaven, Kaizuka Inaho, was a mythical beast in an ancient epic poem. It was written on clay, in one of the most ancient writing systems the world has ever known. Probably more ancient than the Aldnoah. Though I’m not so sure about this fact. Anyway,” Slaine says, “This epic poem talks about the life of a King.”

“A king?” Inaho feels lost.

“A King surpassing all other Kings.”

“I see.” Inaho says, not actually seeing anything.

“I thought it suited you, you see...” Slaine says, head slanted sideways, eyes cast downward. “But you cannot fathom its importance...and time has passed, and it is too late now for silly tales to be told.”

“Slaine Troyard, you’ve always been incomprehensible. The most perplexing person I have met in my life.” His heart thumping, once, Inaho talks the truth. And he admires Slaine, for this.

A guard knocks on the door, three times.

Slaine closes his eyes.

“Our time is over.” Inaho says.

“It is.” Slaine whispers, face pale. “It surely is.”

Inaho gets up, dispelling the sudden uneasiness. “I will see you tomorrow, Slaine.” He walks away from the table, only to stop when Slaine’s voice resounds in the grey room.

“Kaizuka Inaho. _Will the King kill the bull?”_

Inaho blinks. “Slaine…this story is not making any sense. But if it entertains you…yes, I suppose. This…creature…cannot kill the animal, or it will be punished again.”

“Yes. The gods have no reason to harm the King, because they have already sentenced the Creature to death, and the King has no say in this.” Slaine says, carefully, “But if the King carelessly kills the bull, the gods will seek punishment for that behavior, _again_. You need to think of another plan, _in order to get rid of the bull,_ Inaho, while the King stays _unharmed_.”

Inaho’s eye is slightly throbbing, and he needs to take his pills. He needs to adjust his plans in order to prevent the UFE and Vers governments from officially terminating Slaine’s life. Furthermore, this is all very confusing. The guard knocks again on the door, in order to signalize that his visiting time is over. Inaho decides to respect the prison’s rules, and leave. He can work on his plans at home. Slaine’s story, though interesting and mystifying, can wait.

“I must go.” Inaho says.

“I see.” Slaine says. His back is presented to Inaho. The blond hair near his nape, Inaho now observes, is tangled and uncared for. _“Inaho.”_ Slaine says suddenly, turning again to face him, eyes sad. “Inaho, listen to me.”

#

_There was a Cedar Forest lying in lands unknown, far away from the King’s realm. It was gloriously beautiful. The Creature and the King traveled towards it, spending many quiet, peaceful days in each other’s company._

_One night, as they stood side by side, gazing at the stars above…the King was so beautiful, the Creature claimed that he would stand by the King’s side until the end of the world._

#

“They became romantically involved.” Inaho says. “That is interesting. You should tell me the continuation tomorrow, Slaine.”

There are a few seconds of silence until Slaine answers, “Leave, Kaizuka Inaho. Goodbye.”

Slaine lifts his hand and clutches at his light blue shirt, over his heart.

Unlike the last time, he is not crying.

#

Inaho does not know why he wakes up that night, his breaths fast and short. His mind keeps presenting him pictures; data about the prison Slaine is kept it.

Timelines.

UFE’s plans on executing Slaine.

Guards’ names.

New faces, appearing in the prison two months ago, the day it was publicly announced that Slaine Troyard might still be alive.

Schedules of the guards’ night shifts.

Guards’ last names like _Toro_.

Whose night shift is scheduled for _tonight_.

_Toro._

The meaning of this word in Inaho’s native tongue is completely different than in other languages.

_Bull_.

#

It is a moonless night. There are no other guards in the facility. It’s been 10 years after the end of the Second Interplanetary War, so security became lax due to the passage of time, yet Inaho cannot help but find the complete absence of guards extremely suspicious.

Inaho walks down the dark corridor.

Shadows are dancing on the wall outside Slaine’s cell.

Inaho runs, until his hands are gripping the strong metal bars, the door of Slaine’s cell.

A wide-shouldered, tall figure is chocking Slaine, pressing his head into the small washbasin, which is now filled with water. The man is wearing the UFE prison guards’ uniform. Slaine is struggling noiselessly, his hands flailing backwards in vain.

Inaho doesn’t think. The facts add themselves to a reasonable calculation. The man’s back is turned towards the cell’s door. Slaine’s cell is small. Inaho takes out his gun, holds it from the barrel, and forces the blunt end of the grip once, twice, three times down the attacker’s head, until the bone breaks and Inaho belatedly realizes he has reached a point of no return.

The man drops like a useless sack on the ground.

Slaine is kneeling on the ground, coughing, when Inaho says, “His last name was Toro. The ‘Bull’ of your story.”

“Took you a while to realize.” Slaine says, now standing up, carefully sidestepping the body while he approaches Inaho.

_He isn’t injured._ The adrenaline filling Inaho’s body starts to subside. But his pulse soars.

“Yes. Your story had a purpose; you needed to warn me of your…” Inaho swallows, “…assassination, so that I could…prevent it. We were under constant surveillance, so there was no way you could directly explain to me the danger you were facing.”

Slaine nods, suddenly coy, refusing to meet Inaho’s gaze.

“How did you know?”

Slaine’s head snaps up. “That I could depend on your help?”

“No.” Inaho says, “You know more than anyone else that I would never tolerate your—“ _Death._ “Your mistreatment. That’s not what I meant.”

Slaine’s hand covers his face, denying Inaho his expression. “You care about me.”

“Always.” Inaho answers, truthfully. “But how did you know that the UFE had issued an order to murder you? That this particular guard would be the one to act on their orders?”

Slaine sighs, hand dropping listlessly to his side. “When you are not here…UFE officers come and go for ‘medical inspections’.  Guards whisper about their posts they will soon fill, after ‘moving on’. In addition to all that strange activity, this tall, burly guard came to this prison only two months ago—“

“The day you stopped eating.”

Slaine nods. “The day the Empress of Vers decided to announce to the world that some confidential documents about my existence—my fake death—have been leaked out to the public.”

“You know about this.” Inaho says.

“Of course. The guards in this prison are talking freely about everything, considering me a lost cause. Not that they are wrong…But that guard took more shifts than anyone else near my cell, not the entrance of the building. He rarely spoke to the other guards about his life or his ambitions, like the rest of them do. Also—“

_Slaine…he is very intelligent._ “I understand.” Inaho says. _And so…fascinating._

There is an awkward pause, and then Slaine notices the body, near the corner of his cell.

“Is he dead?”

“Yes.” Inaho says, and Slaine’s expression turns livid, teeth bared, he snarls, _“You foolish Orange!”_

“I had no other choice. Furthermore, I cannot open the door of your cell—“

_“I tried to warn you—I can’t believe this—They will hunt you down, burn you alive!”_

Inaho takes a breath. “That’s an exaggeration.”

_“How could you do this to yourself?!_ ”

“Calm down, Slaine Troyard. Calm down.”

#

After some minutes pass and Slaine manages to calm down, Inaho states the facts as they are: “You are in danger.”

“Hmph. Tell me something new. Since the moment I was born in this world, I was doomed. However, you…you are putting yourself in danger for my sake. And the fact that you speak so openly to me now means…” Slaine’s eyes light up with a weird satisfaction. “It means there are no functional cameras in here. Did you disable them before stepping inside the building?”

“Exactly.”

“I see…” Slaine Troyard smiles. And it’s mesmerizing.

Inaho swallows.

“Finally. We can talk.”

Inaho doesn’t know why, but he imagines Slaine, blind with rage, screaming and throwing the chess pieces on the floor, black and white broken glass everywhere. He remembers the time Slaine almost smiled; the happy curve of his mouth, a reaction to something Inaho had then said. It wasn’t a smile…but it wasn’t less than perfect, either.

_Slaine Troyard…_

“The man is dead. You saved me.” Slaine seems uncertain, yet determined. It should be _impossible_. It should be impossible to express such an intricate combination of emotions, as Slaine Troyard always does.

Inaho can only answer, “Yes. But I cannot open your cell door.”

“You will walk away. I _know_ you will abandon me. Everyone always abandons me—or dies.”

“My aim is to live a long and healthy life.” Inaho says, and his heart is up his throat. _What is this discussion._ Inaho cannot look away from those bright, tired eyes.

“I’m a mess, Inaho. I’m a _mess_. You shouldn’t want this.”

“…Want?” _Want. Need. Lust. All of this is an unfamiliar concept to me. Is it?_

“What do you want me to tell you, Inaho? That I am utterly emotionally and physically destroyed? That only you could fill up that endless void inside me? I am an abomination. Vers society’s abomination.”

“You truly believe that about yourself.” Inaho concludes, and his heart feels constricted, preventing him from taking a breath.

“There is no love in this world.” Slaine says, “There are no miracles, no second chances. We are mere playthings in the hands of Fate.”

“No. Those are all lies.” Inaho says, because Slaine’s eyes are not destroyed, this time. “You want to send me away. Because I am in danger, every second I spend here, with a dead body lying near my feet.”

Slaine is silent, looking away.

Ever persistent, Inaho never, ever gives up. “Do you believe in fate, Slaine Troyard?”

Slaine instantly lifts his head. “No. I believe in having met you.”

“Yes…We have met, and we have changed each other.”

Slaine groans in misery. “Only you would be so cruel, trying to _save_ me, returning year after year, day after day, your ugly face a constant reminder of my _cruelty_ —“

_Ugly…_ Inaho endures the word silently. “You were never cruel.”

Slaine’s voice sounds as if it was put through a shredder. “Have you gone insane? I shot you. What I did to you, what I did to the people of Earth—it is unforgivable.”

“But I forgive you.” Inaho feels sad. “Long ago—“ The words feel like lead, on his tongue. “I have forgiven you…long ago.”

Slaine makes a small sound, like an animal caught in a trap.

Neither speaks for a few moments. Inaho observes the lifeless body, lying in the corner of Slaine’s cell.

They shouldn’t be doing this, now. Their time is limited. There are no excuses.

It is unacceptable.

Yet… _yet_ …

“I see…Then tell me, Kaizuka Inaho. Have you ever wondered…what might have been?”

Inaho is silent, very silent, as the atmosphere of their argument endures a gradual, life-changing course. He knows it. He can sense that Slaine is determined, and broken, like he once was while sitting on that dark, wet sand, pointing a finger to his forehead, the night Inaho decided on his fate.

Slaine is murmuring, “If our lives were not doomed from the start, were not drenched in blood for the sake of millions, all the senseless crowds that have now forsaken you?”

“It was my decision to abandon them.” Inaho says. _To be by your side. And I don’t regret it._

“Have you ever imagined what might have been…If I hadn’t shot you…If you hadn’t shot me down….?”

“No. I haven’t.” Inaho says, and he’s lying.

“Inaho.”

_He knows what I need. I never knew, on my own. He knows me very well. Better than anyone else on Earth and Vers._

Blond hair. Long, full eyelashes. Excellent bone structure—Slaine’s posture seems delicate yet commanding at the very same time. Slaine Troyard, who was once his enemy. Slaine, who is compassionate, and loyal, and intelligent enough to accomplish things no one will ever understand. Who constantly struggles to conceal his kindness, the unique secrets of his personality.

“Come here, Kaizuka Inaho.” Slaine whispers, patient and calm, and his eyes are smiling.

How can he resist? How can he? When Troyard…when Slaine Troyard is unlike every other person Inaho has met in the unfairness of this world?

Inaho’s heart might burst out of his chest.

“Inaho.” Slaine breathes out, “Come here.”

Inaho takes the first step. A coalescence of uncertainty and longing. Where is his flawless, analytical mind? Perhaps consumed by the impossible; thoughts of Slaine, free, smiling as the ocean breeze caresses his golden hair.

For a second, just for one second, Inaho is overwhelmed with the urge to smile back.

Slaine’s fingers are clenched around the iron bars of his prison cell. Inaho steps in front of him, so close, he can see how Slaine’s lips part in silent satisfaction. He can feel the light gust of Slaine’s breaths on his lips.

The only thing Inaho can say is, “You have never seen the skin under my eyepatch.”

Slaine softens. “Ah, Inaho. Did my calling you ugly bother you?”

“No.”

“ _Liar_. You’re _lying_.”

“I am not.” _I am. You are doing this to me. What are you doing to me, Slaine Troyard?_

“You _are_. But listen to me, Kaizuka Inaho. Your eyes are liquid fire.”

Inaho is struck silent.

“Do you know anything about poetry, Kaizuka Inaho? ‘Thy hair is one Kingdom…the King whereof is _darkness_.’ I don’t remember it well, either…but I am certain…that your lips—”

Inaho’s mouth is dry. “Lips…?”

“Yes. Your mouth.”

“What is it about my mouth?” Inaho says, lost.

“I want it.”

Inaho cannot breathe.

Slaine grabs onto Inaho’s clothes, digs his fingers into Inaho’s dark blue jacket. “Speechless, aren’t you? I’ve been wanting this for _years_.”

“This is unsound. _You are in danger._ ”

“Shut up.” Slaine is breathing harshly against Inaho’s neck. They are so close, Inaho’s cheeks are pressed against the cold iron bars, against Slaine’s soft hair. Slaine almost caresses Inaho’s mouth with his own, and Inaho almost leans forward, mesmerized. “Kaizuka Inaho, you are tragic, tragic and beautiful at the same time, so _beautiful_ —ah, no, what does it matter anymore…”

Something moist and warm rests on Inaho’s neck. The instant Inaho realizes it is Slaine’s mouth, his lungs fill with air and fire lights him up from the inside. Yet Slaine is inexperienced and afraid; Inaho knows this as good as he knows his own panic and inexperience.

“Wait.”

Slaine breathes against Inaho’s mouth, “I can’t. _I can’t._ ”

Inaho gets lost into it. He is unstable. Dizzy. That’s how he rationalizes it; his shaking hands slide through the bars, around Slaine’s waist, yet the fullness of their proximity is never complete—Inaho collides with the bars even before he can feel Slaine’s warm body pressed against his own. Desperate, his hands slide into Slaine’s hair. It is soft, so soft.

The contrasts of the moment threaten to split his mind and heart apart. He cannot fully touch Slaine. Slaine’s body is warm and his skin is soft under his palms—his palms, hidden under Slaine’s light blue shirt, and Slaine is looking at him with wide, shocked eyes. The iron bars are an immovable barrier between them. Slaine seems pained. He keeps trying to lean through the bars against Inaho. It’s impossible. Inaho carefully slides his fingers across Slaine’s lower back. Slaine shivers. The scars are smooth under his fingertips. Yes. Slaine’s skin is so soft…so warm.

“I wish there was more light. So that I could see you. The colors of your eyes.” Inaho whispers. _What am I saying? What am I doing?_

Before everything else, Inaho hears the strangled sound Slaine makes.

“S-Slaine?”

“You know that I love you.” Slaine whispers, then kisses him as if he has discovered the meaning of life for the first time.

Inaho feels as if a constant pain in his chest has been eradicated, as if he is able to breathe again after years of suffocation. He did not expect for kissing to feel like this. Slaine’s lips are clumsy as they slide over his own, trembling. Slaine is afraid. Inaho stops this; he takes Slaine’s upper lip between his own—some instinct, perhaps, or perhaps his feelings, his newfound _love_ for Slaine—and Slaine shudders against him, as if he’s drowning, _again_ , his fingers combing through Inaho’s hair, scratching, desperately, against the strap of Inaho’s eyepatch.

It is so warm. Kissing—it is filling his chest with warmth. He is kissing Slaine, his eyelids are closed, and Slaine’s mouth is pressing against his own in a wonderful way. Slaine licks, then, deliberately, across Inaho’s lips, and Inaho slowly opens his mouth, and as Slaine’s hot tongue slips between his sensitive lips, Inaho feels more lightheaded than before, as if the Earth is not tilted in the right angle, as if the universe has started accelerating faster towards its cold death.

And this is how it feels when their lips part. As if a part of Inaho has died a cold death, as if kissing Slaine was what he was supposed to be doing all of these past, miserable years; not waging useless wars but understanding the one person that is able to fully appreciate him for what he is.

Slaine is resting his cheek, partially against Inaho’s, partially against the iron bar, his eyes obscured from his golden hair. Those warm, soft lips are pressed into a tight line of misery.

Inaho’s chest feels too full. “Slaine. _Slaine_.”

He rejoices when Slaine’s lips curl into a soft smile, presumably from the need expressed from those two beautiful words.

Slaine’s lips attack Inaho’s mouth, silencing and fierce. Inaho lives up to Slaine’s challenge, clutching at the immovable metal, kissing Slaine back with a burning, sudden passion, his hands now kneading small circles on Slaine’s back, sliding down, on his behind—

Slaine interrupts the kiss with a moan. “ _Inaho_.”

“ _Yes_. You have the option to touch me.” Inaho says, aware of the sudden, not anymore unexplainable tightness in his uniform pants. Slaine’s kisses on his neck are warm and slow. “Do anything you prefer—“

“A-Anything?” Slaine asks, lifting his head and staring into Inaho’s face, eyes heavy-lidded and knuckles caressing Inaho’s cheek. 

“Anything you want, Slaine Troyard.” Inaho breathes the words out, his nose brushing against Slaine’s.

“ _I want you_.” Slaine groans, desperateness lacing is voice, “ _You’ll be the death of me!”_

Inaho treats his fingers into Slaine’s hair, clumsily learning to caress a desperate Slaine, clumsily finding out how to palm Slaine’s cheeks with his hands, how to swipe hot tears away with his thumbs.

“But _how_ can I possibly have you?!” Slaine cries out and curls into himself, “ _How!?”_

Inaho tries to hug Slaine, but the bars are unbreakable and in his way and Inaho does not know what to do.

“I am an _abomination_ , Inaho.”

_“No.”_ Inaho raises his voice, “You are not. _You are not._ ” His lips are swollen from their kisses and cold from the absence of Slaine’s sweet touch. He never should have shot Slaine down into the ocean. He never should have allowed the world to hurt Slaine.

And then the alarm starts to sound.

Slaine freezes, hunched near the bars, his fingers white from gripping the metal tightly. He lets out a defeated sound. Inaho is standing there, his thoughts a chaos, breathless, when Slaine slips on a mask of apathy and straightens his tired body, whispering, “I see. It is over. Everything is over. Death is all that awaits me. I was a fool to think that happiness was even a choice…”

Inaho forces his shocked mind to think. “I have no way to take you out of there. We have no time—”

_Except…_

And Inaho has an idea.

_To be continued…_

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say? I just love writing them. This story was partially written months ago, in a surge of inspiration after I happened to read about Enkidu and Gilgamesh, both central figures in the Ancient Mesopotamian 'Epic of Gilgamesh'. Today I had some free time and another rush of inspiration, so I just decided to post the first of two chapters :)


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